


How Far I'll Go

by Fiachra



Series: Metamorphosis [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Dragons, Gen, Shapeshifting, Star Wars AU, Star Wars Dragon AU, Star Wars Shapeshifter AU, The Lars have a lot on their plate, Wanderlust, because why the hell not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 13:59:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11510865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fiachra/pseuds/Fiachra
Summary: Before he ever learnt about the Jedi and the Force, Luke knew he was special.





	How Far I'll Go

Luke can’t really remember the first time it happened. In contrast, his aunt and uncle remember it perfectly.

He had only been three or four, playing in the homestead’s courtyard under the watchful eye of Aunt Beru. Then suddenly he wasn’t there anymore.

Or he was, but instead of a human child he was a small dragon with scales of sandy brown, pale yellow and gold. Not a krayt dragon, something else. Something different, mysterious and regal, despite his small size and chubby limbs.

“It gave me quite the shock at first,” Beru said, smiling as she always did when she told him the story, “but you barely seemed to notice, you just toddled over to me (even falling didn’t slow you down) and gave me such sad eyes until I put you on my lap. Owen was a bit surprised when he came out to see us.”

Then they would laugh, and if Owen was there he’d grumble and roll his eyes.

But Luke never heard the other side of the story.

How both his guardians had breathed a sigh of relief when he changed back an hour later, how they had lain awake in silence for a long time that night. How Owen had felt an icy chill run down his spine when he had seen his nephew’s blue eyes, unmistakeable despite being set in a reptilian face, blink innocently at him.

How he remembered hearing tales of his step-brother’s ability, remembered seeing the traces of blood on his nails when brought Shmi’s body home, but he had never truly imagined…

Neither does Luke truly recall the hushed but passionate argument they’d had with a tall robed stranger. He has a very vague memory of his uncle and the stranger crouching in front of him, his uncle telling him sternly that could only do this in front of them. The stranger had waited until Owen had grudgingly moved back before smiling at Luke. If Luke could recall it clearly, he would describe it as a kind smile, but one full of sadness.

“Be careful little one,” he had said, and then in an even softer and quieter voice, “you are more important than you know.”

And that had been that.

Luke always stuck to that long ago promise, even has he tested his ability, his gift, as he grew. He fidgeted all through his chores, wanting nothing more than to slip into his other skin.

Walking across the sand when the dry desert wind rose, he would stop and tilt his face skywards, lifting his arms and feeling the wind billow around him, caress him, call his name. He could almost feel it, feel his wings stretch to gather the breeze, to feel it buoy him up and carry him far, far away…

Until his uncle, it was almost always his uncle, would snap at him and tell him to get his head out of the clouds and back where it belonged.

 _But it doesn’t belong here_ , he always wanted to say. You _belong here, on the ground, I belong up there, as close to the stars as I can get._

He began to understand their worry when he got older. Once, the whole family had been outside to watch the setting suns when a small mob of Sand People appeared as if they had sprung from the desert sand itself. Owen had pulled Beru behind him as he went for his blaster, only to be nearly deafened by an ear-splitting roar.

He whirled in time to see his nephew rear onto his hind legs, spreading his wings to their full extent, scales glowing gold in the last rays of the suns. It suddenly hit Owen that Luke’s other shape was no longer a disproportioned, puppy-like creature. He could look him in the eye, and was lean yet strong, with barely a hint of the teenage clumsiness he’d been plagued with lately.

Luke dropped to all fours, planting himself between the raiders and his family and growled with such ferocity that Owen instinctively pulled Beru closer.

Time stood still, there was nothing but Owen’s frantic heartbeat, the rumbles emanating from deep inside Luke’s chest, his talons digging into the sand and his teeth bared in a snarl. Then the moment passed, and the Sand People fled, faster than Owen had ever seen them.

Luke grinned at them, once more a boy of 16, but his smile faltered at his uncle’s face. All he saw there was shock and fear.

Fear of _him_.

Before he could say a word Owen shook himself, and patted Luke on the shoulder with his usual gruff words of praise while Beru engulfed him in a desperate hug. Not that it completely dissolved the unexplained guilt sitting in his chest.

He knew he would be feared, hurt even, if others found out what he was, what he could do. But despite that he still wanted to stretch, to fly, to push himself. It was the subject of many arguments, of many flared tempers that made Owen and Beru watch him as if he was a thermal detonator. There were rules, yes, but rules he could stand to bend a little.

Luke spun stories about taking the T-16 out for longer spins that usual, which wasn’t technically a lie. He’d bring it to the most remote location he could find without getting lost or arousing suspicion, then he’d take to the air again with his own wings. He suspected Aunt Beru knew what was really going on when he came in late, flushed, windswept and exhausted but glowing. But she never said anything, just shot him a secret smile and tipped more food onto his plate than normal.

There were a few close calls, times when he had to avoid travellers making their way across the wastes, that one time he disturbed a greater krayt dragon (who seemed more confused than anything to be honest), to the few occasions when he snuck out to fly under the night sky and then had to make up excuses for why he was outside at a ridiculous hour of the morning when the power has just been switched on.

But it was all worth it, the sneaking around, the white lies. Worth it to fly under the star’s cold light, to feel the sun caress his back, to observe the wildlife and the people go about their business below him, and to see Tatooine’s suns rise. He’s detached from it all, but an intrinsic part of it all at the same time. Everything is connected, everything hummed with life, and sometimes he felt he could almost reach out to each individual thread and see how it connected with all the others.

His aunt and uncle could fret all they liked, but not even they could take the sky from him.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this is a Jedi/dragon/shapeshifter AU. I regret nothing.  
> Title taken from the song of the same name from Moana.  
> Feel free to come chat at @consultingzoologist on Tumblr.  
> [Partly inspired by this beautiful piece by Shorelle](http://shorelle.tumblr.com/post/48693734482/burn-the-land-and-boil-the-sea-you-cant-take-the)


End file.
